Populo Imperialis
by UlfhedinnPanzerlied
Summary: The story of an Imperial citizen, caught up in the grimdark universe of the 41st Millennium.
1. Prelude

823.M41

There have been times travelling through the Empyrean that have I thought on my life as it once was. A family; children and a loving wife were all that kept me going through the hellish days of labor and constant Imperial bureaucracy. In between dodging Adepts and Adminstratum overseers I walked the Hab blocks with my family to try and make their lives have meaning. To find the not so dirtiest spot in the area and stare out into the sky; to try and imagine a world full of natural life, not these mechanized and concrete constructions that choked our eyesight. We came close once, during a series of PDF drills where a majority of the craft were grounded for better viewing of a possible invasion from above. I huddled my wife and children close to see something resembling peace and think only of those days with them fondly, for the rest of the days were something I recall with loathing.

"But I want to go and see the circus Papa you promised!"

"I know sweetling I did, but Papa has to work to provide us with food rations this month. I'll make it up to you when I find some time off between jobs."

"Papa but the circus will be over today! And I want to go today!"

"Alright child, hush a moment and let me go ask your mother."

"Lucretia do you think you could take our beloved daughter to the circus? She's pretty adamant that she goes."

"Dear you know we can't afford to go, not with Sebastian still missing."

My wife was a nervous wreck after we found out our son Sebastian didn't check in with us two days ago. He was usually a bright lad that always made it a point to remind us where he was and how he was doing, more of his mother's doing I suppose, but he was never late on such things.

"Alright love, I'll go look for him again and we might be able to manage to get to work in time. I'll call on you if I hear anything. Please try and take our daughter out to the circus, I think it would do both of you some good."

I kissed my wife and child goodbye and headed out into the maze like footpaths around the hab blocks. The rain was unusually thick today and I found myself fighting through the vast denizens that were going the same direction I was, to the Administratum to be assigned a work number. I would occasionally take a beaten path to ask my son's friends if they saw him and was met with the same disappointing "No." each time. I wondered what my son had got himself into that would cause him to be late, it was very out of character for him. Lucretia and I always implored him to stay within a certain section of the habs and not to mingle with undesirables. Half an hour passed and I then realized I was late for my Menial tasking. I must have run faster than I ever did to get to the overseer in charge of postings, but arrived too late for an assignment.

"What have we here? Late for Menial posting as assigned by the Administratum? For shame Augustus, for shame. However, you may be in luck, though that depends on your definition of luck because we have an opening in a not so sought after slot in corpse removal. The undercity is plagued by well, plague and we need workers to go there and take out the trash. You'll get the proper safety equipment of course and will be working with a supervisor of incineration. Just wear your breathing apparatus and make sure to not come into skin to skin contact, and you should make it out alive."

"If that is what's needed then I'll do what's best for the Imperium." I nodded gloomily.

"That's the spirit! If all Menials were like you then we could call them Adepts in no time with such devotion to the Imperium. You might not have missed an assignment as a Preacher if you had such convictions earlier. Here is your work pass and token to get into the undercity, now be off with you."

I was absolutely crushed and could find no solace in the dreary prospect of corpse removal and incineration, even if it meant food rations. My thoughts though, were replaced with that of my family, and how I must do all I can to provide for their survival like everyone else. It helped to add steel into my spine in times of incredible defeat, to think of them; to know I'm enduring this torpid Menial existence for them. The constant drone of citizens shuffling to and fro kept my mind in a hive state mentality. Occasionally while I curse this pitiful existence I would embrace it to let it carry me to where I'm supposed to. It actually helped to keep my mind off of the more dishonorable options available to me. I could have easily been a bodyguard for some hab criminal or even a "messenger". The messengers were probably the worst, as they left limbs broken or shorn from bodies to get a point across. If a debt failed to get paid or someone insinuated something that the local crime lord disagreed with; they'd get a messenger sent to them. I kept those thoughts to myself as I didn't want to worry my already worried family, especially my wife wouldn't tolerate that kind of stuff.

"Work pass fifty-six Epislon to the right and down the shaft!" A low grade overseer called. I parted from the horde of Imperial workers and presented my pass to the overseer.

"Right then, down the hole and you'll find your protective gear, enter the airlock and select the work pass number as indicated by the screen, then enter the other side and get to shuffling corpses."

I opened the hatch and was met with the foulest undercity stench I think I've ever witnessed. Almost to the point of regurgitating last year's food rations I forced myself down into the darkness below to fulfill my work order; for my family. I started putting on the protective suit and mask with air filtration to start my corpse work. Entering my work number, I was met with a green light and a hiss of an opening hatch. Grabbing the torch, I head into the plague infested darkness and am only met with the glowing eerie eyes that are floating around. My senses are on edge as a pair of eyes drift slowly to me at an ominous pace. It was then I realized that they were servo skulls, I assumed monitoring any plague activity or infection of new workers. I was scanned with it's cold logic and it passed by on its way to fulfill whatever duty was programmed to it. I make my way to a group of workers at the nearest pile and join in the gruesome task.

"Go find your own pile, we have special orders for this one." A worker asserted.

"What orders are there aside from transporting them to the incineration unit?" I asked.

"The kind that ensure that people like yourself don't end up like one of these corpses, now bugger off!" He threatened.

I backed away carefully as to not rile their authoritative physical nature and found another pile to sort through. I thought it strange that there were "special orders" for the incineration of corpses, but I didn't know then what kind of sinister plan was being designed for these plague ridden unfortunates. I also didn't notice through the darkness and heavy mask that they weren't exactly human workers who told me off, and I merely brushed it off as some sort of imagining here down in the darkness. My mind working overtime and my eyesight barely adjusting to this work environment. It was then that I noticed a familiar set of eyes and tufts of patched hair on a plague corpse. It was Sebastian, my boy. I had no idea how to react to this aside from weeping inside of my mask and clinging to him as if trying to wake him up from the grave. An overseer placed his prodding stick on me and told me to not bother with the dead.

"It's my son overseer, he went missing some days ago and now I find him here in this tomb."

"That's not my business, my business is to make sure these corpses of other people's sons, fathers, daughters, and mothers get turned to ash by the end of the shift. Now get back to work or you'll have to explain why your family has two corpses down here instead of one."

"Yes overseer." I managed to say amid the emotional thunderstorm inside of me.

I picked my son up and placed him in another spot so I could see him one last time before I said farewell, and got to moving other corpses to the wagon that hauled them to their fiery destination. I continued on with my work occasionally glancing in my son's direction to make sure he wasn't moved. There must have been thousands of corpses down here, but on a world this size with as large a population, it was no surprise to see this many bodies in one area, even with plague. I trudge along throughout my work shift and notice that authoritative group of workers slowly moving their way in my direction. One of them pushes me on top of a corpse pile and I try not to notice them picking out other corpses to cart off. Another moves toward my son's body and I lunge forward to stop him, but am meet with the bodyguard of the group and a gloved hammer blow to my head. Seconds before passing out I noticed very distinguishable hands protruding from the suit of the one carrying off my dead son, and then pass out.

"Work number Fifty-six Epsilon wake up you lazy sod, or do you want not want to eat today?" The overseer rolled me over and noticed me holding my head.

"What's wrong with you? Don't tell me you're infected!" The overseer remarked alarmingly.

"No!" I said as I struggled to get up. "I was working when another group of workers, real violent types came and grabbed my son's body. I tried to stop them but was knocked out. The only thing I really remember was an odd looking arm sticking out of one of their suits, looked almost like scythes than actual fingers."

"Scythes you say?" The overseer seemed a bit worried now and picked me up so we could report to his superior.

We went through the airlock and were sanitized to re-enter the human population. Climbing out of the undercity hatch back to the surface I was met with the "cleaner" air of the habs. The overseer quickly reported what I said to his superior and I was then told to meet him at his work station.

"Scythes you said? What fracking uselessness is this? I asked for competent workers not some menial who doesn't know how to tolerate undercity darkness and is prone to flights of fancy!" By the Throne Quint get him out of here and if you muck up one more time you'll find yourself out of a job like him!"

Quint, the overseer in the undercity led me to the gate and pulled me aside.

"Listen I want to believe you, and I do, but I have my own job to consider. How are you doing on rations?" He asked.

"This was supposed to help for a month at least, now I don't know what I'll do for my family; especially now that I know my son won't be coming back."

"Damn it you have no luck do you? Here are some ration cards for a week, that's the best I can do, for your son at the very least." Quint said pressing the cards into my hands.

"Thank you sir! I don't know what to say!"

"Say nothing of what you saw down there, my boss won't appreciate it and I'll appreciate it to keep my job. Now get lost."

I quickly move out of the work area and wipe the sweat from my forehead, suddenly remembering the family that relied on me. Joining the teeming masses of human waves, I let myself be carried to where my hab was located. Then enter my home to no family and just as I started to worry I realized that they had gone to circus. Hours pass and I found myself waking up from my harrowing experience and mostly due to the blow to my head. My wife is sleeping next to me, a picture of our son in her hands and the reality of what I saw kicks me in the gut. My son, gone in both life and flesh, now forever denied a dignified rest. I pick myself up and go to the refresher to splash water on my face to try and wake up. Walking into my daughter's room I notice her cradling a stuffed toy of some sort, a prize she won I gathered. Then pick up a few toys there and there to straighten things out, kiss her on the forehead and leave. I go and slump over onto the chair to read the latest dataslate that came in concerning local goings on.

"Mysterious disappearances, rampant plague in the Solinus Quarter, food riots in District Three, and lastly the Governors 115th birthday. Oh just another fine day in the Imperium. We might as well have Orks rain in on us next wouldn't that be swell?" I mumbled the reports to myself as I didn't want any wayward Arbites to come busting the door down.

"Dear? You're awake how did work go?" Lucretia asked.

"Sit down love, I have something to tell you."


	2. Luck

801.M41

There's not much to say about myself I suppose. My name is Augustus Timerius and I was born on some backwater world that had "Imperium" written all over it. The Governors, Aribitrators, Adepts, everything about the sprawling Imperial Bureaucracy embedded itself deep within the millennia old groundwork of the planet. Cities rose and fall, only to be excavated for anything useful and then buried again; with bigger cities being built upon the old. The cycle continued until someone thought of just making smaller buildings, cram them together, and then make them bit higher to accommodate all of the masses of humanity living here. There's not much room for well, anything. Children are born and raised in the smog and drudgery depending on their class, with only the most Noble having the luxury of anything resembling education or decorum. They generally live longer too, since they don't have to deal with disease or the rampant criminal entities that run amok. They just send in the Arbites to handle things, or the Planetary Defense Forces if things get really out of hand. I only recall the Imperial Guard through tales of traders from different Sectors of space. Massive revolts or some other things they won't talk about for fear of punishment from some higher, spectral authority. I listened to their stories but played them off as tales of the mind from a long trip in space; inventing stories to lure unwary Imperial subjects from the safety of its governance. Thanks be to The God Emperor that we haven't had any issues warranting an Imperial Guard force to quell some blighted insurrection. My life pretty much started as soon as I was able to walk and talk, with my parents trudging their way through the existence of a Menial. Soon after I was able to do things on my own my mother passed and my father turned to narcotics. Interacting with the gangs around the hab blocks, beating me for not helping him with his addiction, and then finally crossing a big time local crime boss and getting smashed all over the ferrocrete walls. I was left to beg and scrape for anything resembling food or housing. The various criminal elements saw my youth as a potential recruiting tool and I was absorbed into the life of a thug. Due to my size I was small and fast enough to steal items; usually credits, food, or to locate rival stashes for later thieving. After a run in with the Arbites, my crime boss turned me over to save his own hide and so I was sent to a youth detention camp. Years of labor and indoctrination into a perfect Imperial citizen, with all of the non-existent rights that carried. The only way I survived that place was to put my faith into something higher than myself. Without much other choice I attended the local abbeys and monasteries to learn of our God Emperor. Oh sure the Deacons and Imperial higher ups wanted to be worshiped as a "Voice" of the Emperor, but I learned enough in my more or less forced criminality to recognize con-men wherever I saw them. I reserved my faith for the God Emperor alone, and that He would help me atone for my many sins upon my fellow human beings.

I spent the rest of my pre-adult life in those sparse conditions, with daily affirmations of obeying the Planetary Governor and all those under him. I was sent on many tasks of heavy labor to improve my suited "career" path as a Menial since because of my criminal past that's all I was allowed. I became diverse at a myriad of things, clearing out bodies, dumping waste of various sorts, helping to build complexes after tearing down old ones; even changing out light posts. Through all of these various skills I acquired, I could not specialize in anything, given my forced status as a Menial. At least slaves had some sort of guaranteed occupation and housing. I had to work for my food and housing, even then the work wasn't always guaranteed, at least in life expectancy. Though I suppose though all of the various tortures of manual labor, Xeno invasions were most likely the worst experience I've ever faced, and due to my shoddy luck, I've experienced many of them. It seems like some Cosmic curse that befell me in my formative years, and then stalked me throughout my adult life. For instance, it was during all of those attendances at the monastery that I met my future wife; but that Cosmic specter saw fit to see her in an early grave as she was caught as an instigator in a major food riot. I lamented and wept for weeks on end, my faith being tested to see if I would break. Why had I fallen for her? Was I meant to become imprisoned by my calamitous misfortune everywhere I went? The only thing that possibly kept me going was my faith in Him. I'm not sure how I pulled myself through it, perhaps He gave me the strength to endure, but wherever there was misfortune I felt my faith in Him soar with each event. I nearly lost an eye at a smelting job I had to do, but was granted my vision at the cost of a scar on my forehead. An arm was almost lost as well due to mishandling of a pressing machine, but again I suffered only a missing finger. Then there was the garbage cleansing that saw my back burned, instead of my body incinerated. Every time I went on a hazardous job, I found some misfortune, only to be saved seemingly by my faith in the God Emperor. The ultimate test however, was my endurance of an Ork Waaagh that reached the planet. Those dark days I recall as a stepping stone to my life now, the previous tragedies just a minor setback next to the human cost in lives endured during that time.

It was the usual smoggy day. Population and work currents proceeded as usual throughout the twenty-four seven cycle of constant Imperial management and I found myself digging graves in an ironic twist of my life. I had not yet known the terrible misfortune about to befall the world I lived upon. The local PDF stormed out in force telling us to expect drills within the coming weeks, our invasion alarms blared and we were told not to panic. Yet the worry set in when the skies filled with meteorites. Hundreds, maybe thousands of descending chunks of metal and rock came screaming toward our city. The usual current of work traffic slowed and eventually stopped, and after much fear, scattered all throughout the city. Panic stricken Imperial citizens sought entrance to the heavily defended Noble Estates, yet they were pushed by a well-armed private militia. Panic turned to riot, riot to near revolt and even as the Orks descended from the sky. The Nobles did what they did best and started killing citizens daring to even think about defiling their lavish gardens and stockpiles of supplies; as they wanted to outlast the Ork hordes themselves. How they would manage it I would have no idea, but I was caught up in the anger, the fear, the very extreme threat of death facing all of us now.

"Let us in you bastards!" A crowd member threw a rock at the barricade of powered shields.

"We don't deserve this! We're all human!" A woman cried with her children.

A lanky man with heavy facial augmetics wearing regal dress came forward even as air defenses barked.

"I want everyone to be calm, as we have the situation well handled. Even now our Honored Planetary Defense Forces and Arbites are mustering to counteract this threat. Deacon Stathcomb if you please?"

An older man, by my guess a few centuries strode out onto a podium.

"Let us all be calm my fellows. For are we not under His protection? Guided in purity by His light? These torments that now befall us will be swept aside like a pest and we shall endure even the slightest inconvenience. Let us pray in His name, that we do not dishonor Him in our time of need. That we uphold our faith in Him and be resolute in serving His will. We are His subjects and He will not abandon us on this day, nor any day that we may yet live. Now please, return to your homes, or find a nearest designated shelter to wait out this trial of Faith."

Despite the Deacon's aura of calm, the crowd was anything but. It was tense and you could still feel the fear and dread among them. It was sickening to the point of choking, yet somehow after some hesitation and the Deacon's insistence, along with the private militias veiled threats, the people broke up and scattered in this way and that. Most returning home and others to shelters. Some scattered to near abandoned sections of the city and started looting. With the Arbites and PDF tied up with defending the planet, unsavory crowds took it upon themselves to take advantage of the lack of security. I admit, I did as well. Seeing as I hadn't eaten well in a few weeks, and needed things for my very survival, especially if the Orks broke through everything, I started to scrounge what I could from where I could. I had a nice little spot I remembered from my thieving days and every few hours would stash some reserve supplies of food or medicine there in case I needed it. I even managed to find a discarded autopistol. Thankfully during my thieving youth, the crime boss' bodyguard taught me the ins and outs of knives and autopistols, and how to use them effectively. If anything wanted my stash, it would have to fight me for it. The day drew to a close and the echo of battle was all around me in the distance. Heavy cannon and a blast of a heavier sounding cannon against them. The faint din of drums and screaming, coupled with the glowing horizon meant that war had come to this planet. Whatever section was set fire, the battles raged fiercer. During all of this time I prayed to the God Emperor that he would deliver me from this. Even if I had to endure a limb missing I vowed I would get off of this planet. The night turned into days, the days to weeks as I witnessed the inferno of battle on the horizon drawing closer. The defensive fire from militia emplacements in the Noble Quarter picked up and the horror of what we were about to witness had come. I moved myself a considerable distance away from my stash as to not drawn attention to it. Keeping my autopistol close I relied on old tricks, hiding in unsavory areas and avoiding the tumult of violent artillery barrages the city. This unfortunately collapsed many sections that I used for travel, and had to traverse the dangerous open ground and festering wounds of hab blocks littered with corpses and debris. The fighting picked up more now, criminal elements fighting Orks in the streets, with a healthy dose of death on both sides though more so on ours. I stayed out of the fight, but unfortunately my scent was picked up and I had to run for my life. I ducked, dodged, rolled, and weaved my way through the labyrinth of this war torn hellscape. Opening potholes, collapsing sections of walls, I did everything I could think of to lose them, but one got through and it felt like an end to such a short tale. However, a bright red streak went past my sight and I saw the Orks head cave from the blast. I stared in bewilderment then realized there was someone else there. I got up quickly and reached for my autopistol only to be met with a weapon in my face. A woman, it seems had fought her way through this mess and was on the same mission I was, survival.

"What the frak woman I could have died!" I said angrily

"Oh so then I shouldn't have just now saved your life?" She said.

"Well, I mean, what if you could have missed?" I retorted.

"Not likely, I'm a veteran of the Imperial Guard. Nice delaying tactics by the way. Where did you learn to do that?" She smiled.

"An Imperial Guards?….Woman? I said staring blankly at her.

"Yes? What have you never seen a female Guardsman before? You some kind of ignorant?" She asked quizzically.

"I thought the Guard were just tales. I grew up knowing nothing except what I was taught by criminals. I didn't remember much from my juvenile correction since I spent most of my time at the Church." I replied.

"Oh, great, an ignorant and a Holy man. Alright listen, I don't know if you have a hideout, but just keep your mutterings to yourself if you need to pray. We need to find someplace to lay low for now."

She relaxed her guard and let me ease up, then we started to walk through the war torn battlefield called the Market District. Scatterings of PDF and Arbites were still fighting, giving the Orks no inch of ground in stubborn defense. The numbers they brought were endless and it seemed that nothing, not even a divine intervention could save me or anyone on this planet.

"Quickly in here now!" She said, shoving me into a debris filled alley.

"What are you…" I started.

"Hush dammit!" She warned. "Orks ahead. Look and see."

Quickly glancing in the direction of her gaze I noticed them too, a patrol it seemed like with a much larger Ork leading them.

"Now wez got ta smash da 'oomies so da Boss can get da Waaagh movin'. So don't go prancin' about an take yer time. Wez got a job ta do." The huge Ork bellowed.

The other Orks shirked from his presence and went on their way to continue scouting. Unfortunately for the Guardswoman and I, one came straight toward us. We tried moving silently away from it but I accidentally kicked a piece of debris which sent sound echoing down the alley.

"Overe 'ere! 'Oomies! I fink I got summit!" The scouting Ork bellowed to his companions.

Panicking we starting rushing headlong into the depths of the crushed alley finding blocked turns and suffocating pathways. Doing all we could to try and flee from the pack of savage creatures that now pursued us.

"Waaagh! Get doz 'oomies and smash em good!"

They were unrelenting, uncompromising and terrifying; and chased us through this maze of rubble strewn city like a pack of vicious dogs. The tension was then quickly cut as I heard a cry out behind me.

"Holy man! Help!" The Guardswoman screamed as she tripped, and Orks closing in fast.

I started to turn around but was paralyzed with fear since I judged the distance too short between her and the Orks closing in. Against my better judgement I started to reach but she was dragged away from the Ork pack, and I then ran off leaving her to her Fate. My soul screamed as if I had abandoned my fellow human behind to die needlessly. But what could have I honestly done? I was no soldier, just some poor sod trying to stay alive. The little resolve I had summed up into all of my previous mishaps didn't kill me, and neither would these Orks. So I ran, ducked, dodged, and leaped my way out of danger finally being able to lose them. By the time I found a safe area the exertion caused my heart to seemingly leap out of my chest with great effort. For the first time in what seemed hours, I was hungry, I was scared, and I was alone.


	3. Reprieve

801.M41

It must have been days, months even, that have passed since the Orks came. The only reason I've managed life this far was hitting my stashes and hoarding or moving food and supplies from one compromised area to the next. I managed to run into some old, associates, of mine during my time as a criminal and learned that the Orks have taken many of the habs and districts in the city. I also learned that the PDF was still fighting, and that a regiment of Imperial Guard were dispatched to liberate the planet.

"So little Augustus has grown up has he?" Came a deep and familiar voice.

Turning around I quickly realize that my old criminal boss was still alive, a quarter of his body covered in scars and augmetics.

"Slate? After all these years? How have you not been hauled off yet?"

"Watch yer tone squib." A threatening reply came from one of the Hammers. A Hammer was a boss' bodyguard, usually picked for size and aggression but not so much for brains.

"Ah leave ta lad 'lone Manx, besides, e's good company, used ta work for us."

"Well that was of course only before you turned me in, just had to save your own neck."

"Course I did, can't run ta business being bludgeoned with shock mauls now can I? At any rate, you being hauled off didn't seem ta hurt you any."

"Well if you count the life of a dutiful, and starving citizen of the Imperium that has somehow managed to survive so far, I guess I was lucky. I could have ended up like poor Saul."

"Ahhh, poor Saul, bloody bastard he was, but he new how ta find a good mark, and get in an out wit'out a fuss. Say, you wouldn't happen ta know any of ta old tricks would ya? There's a nice estate we found ta other day, and I'm sure we could wrangle some good loot from there." he said, enticingly. "I'm pretty sure you 'aven't eaten in at least a week."

"Actually I have my own stashes spread throughout the city, lost some of em due to all the orks gathered around, but I've managed so far. And also, the answer is no, there's enough on my plate like surviving this bloody invasion; than to go gallivanting around with you fine gentlemen looking for victims to rob."

"Ah well, dat's too bad then. Well I can only manage you here for a couple days, a courtesy from your former status wit us. Help yerself to any weapons you might need and a few spare supplies. You've always been a keen one, so I don't put it past it fer ya ta outlive all dis. Anyway, I got some business to attend, now bugger off."

Bowing I made my way to their storeroom and ran across an old friend by the name of Quintus.

"Governor's balls! Dat you Augustus?"

"In the flesh Quintus, I see you've got another shiny hand. Lose it in another card game?"

"Nah, lost it defending da boss. He repayed me by gettin' me sorted out with another hand. Quality it is, can smack around marks real good."

"How's everyone else doing? Varro, Lucius, Maxentius, and Titus?"

"Dead, every one. You know how ta life is. Some cut down just too young, unable to find their place propa in da world or in da business. How'd you make off though? 'eard you found yourself religion and live a life begging for scraps and mewling about fancy feet ta get work?"

"I do what I can to keep all my limbs, and to make sure my life expectancy isn't cut short."

"Fair 'nough. What you come lurkin' around 'ere for anyway? Da boss sent ya?"

"Yeah, ran into him just now trying to scrounge some scrap. He gave me a courtesy seeing as I used to help him and all of you out. Told me he'd let me stay a few days and grab some supplies."

"Alright, well you're da trustworthy sort so I imagine you ain't playing me a fool." Opening the lock to the door he turned on a glow globe and recalled what was in stock. "We've got various meats, drinks, all kinds of wine and grub. Just let me know what ya want and I'll put it in a bag 'ere. We've also got a stock of Laguns, stubbers, autos, shotguns, grenades, shivs, shanks, cudgels, even an Arbites shock maul. packs a right wallop. Also got some stims and hypers, patches and such for bleeding, the usual medicinal supplies."

"Suppose I take some meat and water, along with the fighting knife, shotgun and the bayonet for the shotgun, as well as however many rounds you can spare for an autopistol. Could also use some bandages and hypers for keeping me awake when I need to be alert. Got any fresh boots and clothing?"

"Aye, what size boot and clothing"

"Eleven and medium."

"Right, 'ere ya are, all in a duffel for ya. You sure I can't convince ya ta stay? Could use a quality man like yerself."

I thought on these words, ever since the invasion I've essentially been on the run, scavenging like a beast just to survive. Yet with these old friends of mine I may just have a fighting chance if it came down to a fight with the Orks. On the other hand since they are out to loot they may run afoul of whatever is left of the organized defenders; and I know they won't last terribly long against that reprisal. A rock and a hard place it seems, and I felt that for some reason He was testing me further still, an act of faith, to act on my own.

"Sadly I cannot Quintus, this life never suited me well anyway." I said looking around at the den of thieves. "I've made it this far on my own, I'll survive this yet. I just hope some of you can as well."

I gathered my supplies and went off to a spare room that was made available for me. I threw the new boots and clothing on and placed the duffel on a mattress on the floor. Laying down I decided to get some quality and somewhat peaceful sleep. Considering I wasn't being rained on, hunted, gnawed upon by rats or sleeping on garbage; I would say this was about as good as I had it thus far. The sleep was needed and very welcome, however about a day and a half within my allotted time here I was awoken by a crash upon the wall and gruff orkish voices. Scattered, heavy autogun and stubber fire erupted down the halls. Rifling through my duffel I found my combat knife and sheathed it in my boot, slung my shotgun around my chest and tucked the autopistol in the back of my pants. Grabbing the duffel, I swung it around my back and figured it was about time to get moving. Opening the door slowly I peered through the darkened hallways making out muzzle flashes and screams of violence, death, and defiance. Darting across the gloom I made my way through a ventilation shaft to a set of habs across from the thieves den. Noting the distinct lack of foul smelling orks I kicked open the vent hatch and hopped out onto the plasteel decking. Securing my shotgun I looked around warily for any sign that I was followed then proceeded on through the hallways. It's an impossible sense to know that previously I was but a scared man fleeing for my life unable to defend a fellow human being. Now with the weight of the shotgun in my hands, fresh rations and decent sleep, not to mention my faith in Him, it was somehow reinvigorating and it added steel to my spine.

Further and further I went into this section of the city, hoping beyond hope that I find a well sheltered place I could hold out in until the Guard arrived. I managed to fix an old vox radio and tuned it into the chatter of the weary defenders. I picked up evacuation orders for the Governor and his family, along with dozens of other perfumed men and women. It seems the Guard was fighting a holding action against the Orks so survivors could make it to designated evacuation areas. Any pilots still left were ordered to disembark cargo and make room for people who had to be evacuated. Already I heard reports of a cargo hauler being overrun with terrified refugees, desperate to escape their doom. What was left of the Arbites was sent in to keep order as best as they could, with considerable Guard support it seems they somehow snuffed out any lingering, riotous thoughts. With that, my mind was made that I had to head out, and though my luck was the most shoddy thing in this universe, my faith in Him helped keep me from faltering.


	4. Escape

"Escape"

801.M41

"Any and all citizens still alive, make your way to designated evacuation zones in the north west quadrant of the Water Gardens. Repeat...make your way to designated evacuation zones in the north west quadrant of the Water Gardens. The Emperor Protects."

"Ave Imperator" I whispered to myself. With all of the guile, hab sense, and youth forged criminal grit I could muster, I made my way to the Water Gardens. Knowing the Guard were here, and after witnessing that Veteran Guardswoman, there was a renewed sense of steel and nerve firmly planted into my spine. I felt as long as I kept faith in Him, nothing would matter, no vast Ork horde, no threat of Arbites shock mauls, no ravenous desperate crowd could keep me from escaping this planet. Days of running, hiding, fighting, and running again took its toll on my body. My shotgun ran out of ammo two days ago, though I still kept the bayonet as an extra knife. Dislocated my shoulder stabbing, then shooting, an Ork in the face. Though it was only after it tossed me into some debris that I realized my arm was out of socket.

These beasts were terrifying, but somewhat easy to outwit and kill if they were alone. I tended to avoid the larger packs since they were more coordinated in each others presence, especially in the presence of the bigger, meaner ones. Almost out of hypers, and I know that this would mean I would crash hard, fall asleep, and then miss my chance at evacuation. Throne it feels as if it's been weeks, not days since I started out to the evacuation zones, and each misstep, each run in with the Ork, it seemingly added years to my body. I was no longer the young boy I used to be, no longer had that youthful stamina and optimism. I was tempered in actuality and violence, stagnation and meek survival. The fact that I still stood after many a trained and hardened Arbites or PDF trooper lie slain tells me that He must be guiding me for something.

Thunk...Hiss...Thunk...Hiss...Thunk...Hiss

The noise put me on edge and I carefully edge my way through debris and corpses to find the source of the noise.

Thunk...Hiss...Thunk...Hiss...Thunk...Hiss

Spotlights blinded me, with klaaxons blaring an intruding alarm. All on station were alert to my presence, as I must have dislocated a piece of debris to go crashing down into their path. The armed scout Sentinel came thunking its way toward me, with a squad of Guardsman in pursuit.

"Who goes there! In the Emperor's Name be you friend or foe?" The scout bellowed.

"Don't be stupid man, no Ork is going to try sneaking his way to our position." The Sergeant scolded the brash scout.

"I'm human, please, please in the Emperor's name don't shoot, I'm coming out."

"A human? Still alive? Hop to lads let's get him out of there!" The Sergeant ordered.

"Praise the Throne! I've been alone for weeks it seems. There's still an evacuation right? I'm not too late am I?" I asked.

"No worries there lad, if there weren't an evacuation, we wouldn't be here to drag you out of this mess. There's a station, about five hundred meters back beyond this position, with medical staff and some rations. Carry on down that way and don't look back, we're here to hold the line for all to get off this rock." The Sergeant placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and nodded.

"God Emperor watch over you Guardsman." I replied.

Smaller crowds than I've ever been used to stretched about halfway from the medicae area and I found myself a place in line. Lingering after weeks spent running for my life put my mind on a razor's edge. I could feel the Orks staring us helpless victims down, ready to consume us in mindless slaughter. I saw families shivering, starving, waiting to hopefully find salvation on a waiting transport. Knowing the higher authorities and their army of servants they were already off planet by now, that left us plebeians out with the short draw. We were just standing targets to the Ork, waiting, in semi-perfect order for death to find us. And it was almost as if they were listening to my mind, because they soon found us.

"Corporal get those civilians back to the transports, they can get their needs off planet. Get them moving now! We'll hold the bastards greenskins here!" The Sergeant bellowed his orders and in military precision the Guard did as they were ordered.

As ordered and disciplined as the Guard was, the civilian mob, hardly even registered on a disciplinary scale. We all scattered, a screaming mass of noisy targets for the Orks to chew up with their loud guns and childish laughter. Those of us with some modicum of sense pushed toward the forward medicae encampment. Further still was hopefully the transport area, which meant those of us with focus might make it. As bad as it is to say, and may the Emperor forgive me, those scrambling unfortunates were the shield at my back and bought me and others time to escape death's grip. My lungs burned and my heart ready to give out as we found our way into the forward encampment, which itself was being prepared to evacuate essential personnel and setup defenses as a rear guard. It didn't take long for the attack to come, as we saw streaks of orange light with trails of billowing smoke propelling Orks into the air. We only heard the crash of their mass into the civilians screams.

"WAAAAAAAGH! git 'dose 'oomies and krump em good! Save 'da squishy ones for da Boss! 'E likes 'em fer sport!" Bellowed the Greenskin pack leader.

"Throne they're everywhere! We can't es..." an unfortunate soul stood frozen, his mind broken by the events that befell our planet, only to meet his end mere moments away from salvation. Now cleaved in twain.

No looking back, no respite for my life's purpose to survive. Nothing mattered except survival, to live another day, to tell the tale that must be told if anyone cared to listen. Only moments now, fleeting, hellish, moments ensconced in death and wanton slaughter to find salvation in a transport and freedom in the void of space. Red directional lights were highlighting the path for any civilians to waiting transports, with heavy gun emplacements opening up on our pursuers. Breaths, heartbeats, seemingly slowing down all perception of time around me, made the running so much harder. I just wanted to lie down, and let the tide take me, let all this pain, and worry cease so I didn't have to care anymore. It was then that I saw a great light, as if His light was embracing me, telling me to stand tall, and make my way to safety.

Throughout my life, mishaps, unfortunate circumstance, death, everything that sought to end me; there was only Him and his guidance at the end of all things. I willed my legs to move, and they moved toward the loading ramp, and thus, toward the light of His salvation. Reaching the top I jumped forward toward an opening door and was grabbed by reaching arms. Pulled into the interior of a shuttle others clambered in as the last to survive this tide of death. The shuttle lurched upward high into the starry sky on its way to the embrace of the void. I peered out of the window to see the landing platform awash in green bodies standing upon red stained flooring. Not today it seems, that my life must end. Not today, that my life is given for His purposes. I just wish I could know why I had to endure all that I have, for the one thing that scared me more than any ravenous alien, was not knowing why I have to live like this.


	5. New Beginnings

801.M41

The small fleet that left the now alien ridden world journeyed through the violet hues of warp space. There were tales on the ship about inhuman voices, inhuman laughter, and a feeling of ravenous hunger gnawing at the violet light. We were told to remain calm, and have faith that He would see us safely to our new destination, our new home. Regular sermons were held and all aboard attended lest the peering hunger draw you to insanity. It was all we could do on this voyage, but hope and pray that we all live to see another day, and the dawn on a new planet.

"Ospasia"

I was suddenly upright, rigid, and covered entirely in sweat with a light tickling feeling in the back of my mind.

"Ospasia" I said, cold vapor emerging from my lips.

I now suddenly became aware of just how cold it had gotten in the passenger hold. Dim glowglobes shone in the darkness of the room, with eerie, sleeping faces almost sneering looked toward me. I immediately got out of my rack to dress then went out into the corridors for some much needed time alone. What were those voices? What were those faces? I shook my head and tried to clear my mind, to focus on Him and His light. I don't know what He plans, as that is as mysterious as that cold feeling back in the passenger hold. Why must I endure this tragedy? I suppose this is the state of the galaxy, rife with all manner of aliens, and otherworldly threats that seek to murder us. I couldn't help but wonder though, why do I live? Surely He has plans? I decided to head to the ship chapel to seek answers.

The loud thudding of boots upon the deck shook me from my thoughts. "Oi, you there! What are you doin roamin' the halls?" A sentry demanded.

"I merely seek the chapel, could you direct me to its location?"

"Late night thoughts eh? You hearin' whispers too? Bah! Superstitious nonsense!" He uncaringly mocked.

"Please, sir, I won't be long, I just seek some rest for my mind, and I'll be right back to sleep with the rest of the passengers."

He appeared even more annoyed, but relented, "Deck twelve and hallway eighteen, second door on your left."

"Many thanks sir."

It seemed that half an hour or so passed on my way to the chapel in this freighter, but sure enough I found the scent of incense burning. Following the candles and light hum of hymnals I opened up the door in front of me. I was half expecting some great room reserved for the holy place, but found a medium sized storeroom, and a sleeping Priest on his cot. Kneeling in front of the altar I accidentally knocked over a can used to collect credits and awoke the Priest from his slumber.

"Huh? What? Oh! One of the faithful come to visit?" He asked warmly.

"Yes, I did not want to disturb you now, but sleep vexes me."

"Ah, I see, what ails your mind?" He asked as he shook the sleep from his mind.

"I seek to understand His will. The destruction of the planet which was home to all those souls now resting, what does it mean? All of those lives lost to alien ferocity? Why do I, do we, survive when so many have perished? I've endured much in my life. Losing a love, skirting the veil between life and death on too many occasions during work accidents. The outright hostility of aliens and even lower members of humanity, gangs mostly. Why?"

"Hmm, why indeed? It would take many lifetimes of even those of my calling to even truly understand Him and His divine will. What I preach to those of my flock is that we must trust, entirely, in Him. To deliver us from our woes, and set purpose in our hearts. Abandon all other notions of control and let His Light fill us completely, and let Him drive us forward toward whatever goal He wishes for us. It is not an easy thing of course, we are only human after all. However, do we not already act in subservience to the Imperium?

No matter your labor, you do because the Imperium needs you to do. Just as you set about your tasks in life, you must set about tasking your heart, your mind to fully accept His will. All answers you seek are in that release of doubt, they are in that release of restraint. I accepted this after personal tragedy in my life; it is what led me to the Priesthood. Because His light opened my eyes, I then understood, just as I do now, that control of yourself is an illusion. We fight against it, to be sure, because we have to be in control of ourselves to find meaning. It is only in the act of releasing control, and letting Him into you, is when and where you will find your purpose and reasons for being alive thus far."

I carefully considered his words derived from much learned wisdom and deep faith.

"I see, and I believe I understand now. Most matters in life are best taken on faith. To just let them happen, as you let yourself become His vessel."

"Yes indeed. You have the answers you came for now, sleep child, we have a ways to go yet until we reach your new home." He said smiling.

"Thank you for your time and guidance."

I got up and rifled through my jacket and dropped a few credits down into his can, then left the chapel to head back to the passenger quarters. I thought much on his words for the rest of my silent walk, and realized that all that has happened to me is because He willed it so. Everything was but a test, to prepare me and steel my soul for the day I join Him in eternity. I marched forward more briskly than I have before and passed the same sentry who barred my way earlier. In his hand appeared an Aquila and prayer beads, I nodded warmly and prayed with the man. He earlier dismissed the ramblings and whispers as superstitious nonsense, but something struck nervousness or fear into his mind; so he sought solace. Feeling relieved he thanked me and gave me an extra token used for rations as repayment.

Entering the gloom of the passenger hold, I no longer saw leering faces under the dim light of the glow globes. I only saw regular faces, human faces, soundly sleeping throughout the artificial night. I sighed, relieved that the odd shapes were just apparent distortions in the darkness and set myself back down on my rack. I thought more on the Priests words, and my own, and fell asleep with a seemingly warmer feeling surrounding me.


End file.
